


Hope is a myth

by DarkGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Despair, Hope, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkGirl/pseuds/DarkGirl
Summary: "Hope is a myth, written so that people won’t despair and kill themselves ending this miserable life"





	Hope is a myth

The redhead walked towards the center of the circle almost without touching the ground. She stopped when she reached the center, raised her right hand and the athame flew to her in perfect synchronization with the flames around her.

The fire had opened to let her through, leaving no burn whatsoever.

Rowena opened her mouth and started chanting ancient spells, long forgotten by many covens but not by her. No. even when everyone had forgotten, she remembered.

She always remembered.

She remembered searing pain while giving birth to Fergus, she remembered pain in her heart when his father left, she remembered fear and anger when being expelled by the bloody grand coven, she remembered relief and love when she met Oskar, she remembered the but necessity of having to kill him, she remembered Lucifer’s hands around her neck whispering fake words, she remembered the awful sound her neck make when he broke it. She remembered running away, she remembered fighting and she remembered dying.

That last time, she truly though she wouldn’t live to see the light. She was so scared and in so much pain. _Like nothing she had ever felt before_ and she had felt lot of pain before.

But that would be no more.

“Enough is enough”

She said to herself, trying to pick up strength from that wee piece of hope.

They all thought she was dead; hell half of them were dead as well. Even Fergus. Rowena still wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She had known it could happen, but she never believed it actually would. Her boy had survived so much and been such a bother for so long it felt weird to know he was gone. In a way he had been the only family she had left. Even if she hated him with a passion and never allowed herself to love him.

“Because love is weakness and I’ll never be weak again.”

She repeated it as a mantra that had worked for so long. She didn’t want to feel sad. But she couldn’t hold all her tears back. He was her boy after all.

She had no one left to love but herself and she wasn’t sure she could comply in that.

She felt she had failed at everything, so badly. But no, it was Lucifer’s fault, and the Winchesters and the men of letters. They all had dragged her down into a pool of hopeless fear and despair.

But no, they might have played a powerful hand but her actions had been her own.

Rowena stood in silence. She didn’t want to cry, despite there being no one around. She had nothing to prove to anyone but herself.

“You can do it, you’ve gotten out of worse before, you can do it.”

She repeated it again and again in her head. Willing with all her soul to believe it. She wanted to believe it so badly.

But she couldn’t.

“Come on, you can have a fresh start somewhere else.”

_But I’m just so bloody tired. I’m tired of fighting, of being resilient, of standing up after being thrown down._

_I don’t think I can do this anymore._

Rowena stood in the middle of the circle. Not another soul in sight.

_Don’t cry. Tears are weakness. You have to nothing to prove to no one but yourself. You can do it. You have gotten out of worse. Get up your arse and fight back. No one knows you’re alive. This is your chance. Run._

Her brain yelled at her. But her body stood still, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Another tear fell from her eyes.

_Weak. Pathetic. This is pointless. They’ll find you and you’ll be dead in a weak. They always find you. You can’t run. Running is useless._

Her brain turned against her and she let out a heartbraking sob.

She had been strong for so long it didn’t feel she could keep doing it anymore.

“There’s no hope. Hope is a myth, written so that people won’t despair and kill themselves ending this miserable life.”

Her voice broke at the end of the sentence, her legs gave up and she fell to the floor sobbing, the fire around her coming to an end. She stared at the athame in her hand. It was so sharp, so perfect and beautiful. It’d cut right through. She knew how to do it so she couldn’t be revived.

Rowena raised the athame, just one cut in the exact place and a small spell where needed.

She saw her tear stained face reflected in the blade and felt repulsion and pity towards her. “Useless” She said to her reflection and threw the blade away, she didn’t want to look at herself another minute. It fell to the carpet with a soft thud. She hadn’t had the strength to throw it so far.

Fear crippled down her back. Had she really considered doing it? In all these years she never had actually considered it. Sure she had thought about it but, she had never gotten so far.

“Stop. This isn’t you. you’re just so very bloody tired.” She said out loud trying to shake the feeling off, to no avail.

She sat up and let out a scream no one would hear.

She screamed until she had no air left, panting in the floor. “So bloody pointless.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus on happy thoughts only to find she had none left. At least not for the moment. That wouldn’t do. But she had to gather strength from somewhere.

“I have to make it count.”

And there it was again. _Hope._ Such a myth and yet so helpful. _So people don’t kill themselves before it’s their time._

Maybe there was hope for her. Everyone thought she was dead so she would have no problem making her scape. Her main persecutors were dead or banished somewhere, it was not all so bad. Yes, she had been killed again. Yes, it had been one of the most awful and painful things she had ever experienced. But she had survived, well kind off. She had come back. She had another chance.

She remembered thinking her failsafe wouldn’t work, she remembered thinking that it was actually going to be it. She remembered fear because she did not want her life to end.

As miserable as it might seem sometimes, it was her life and she could make something out of it. And now she had been given the chance to do something about it.

“I can’t waste it. Not this one, I can’t bloody screw up. Not for a few centuries at least.”

Shoot it. Leave, see parts of the world you haven’t seen yet. Everyone thought she had died, there would be no problem letting them believe that.

Rowena stood up and walked towards the bathroom. She would take a shower and plan her next move, lay down for a while maybe visit one of the wonders of the world, she always had found Macchu Picchu interesting.

Hope was a myth, but maybe she could write this one nice.


End file.
